


Memories

by Ryuki



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Gen, Other, Polyamory, Relationships are Difficult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuki/pseuds/Ryuki
Summary: After months of research, Asra and Xixa may have found a way to return lost memories! What happens when those memories bring pain, betrayal, and confusion for Asra, Julian, and Xixa, though?Eventual Julian x MC. Asra is here, too, but I’m not sure what to do with him, yet.





	1. So Much Blood

It seemed like a dream, having Julian and Asra in the same room with her. For so long, the two avoided each other like the plague. But – _today_? - that was going to change.

She and Julian were getting their full memories back. Well, hopefully. After a few months of studying some ancient texts, bought off a man who didn’t know their worth, Xixa and Asra thought they had a cure for the rampant “memory loss.”

Julian leaned against a wall, arms crossed, watching quietly as the two magicians prep the shop for the ritual. It was no secret he didn’t trust Asra, especially with Xixa’s memories. However, he promised to play nice this evening.

Candles were lit and placed at intervals around the interior of Asra’s shop. The ambient heat a kiss of coziness on their skin. A careful sigil was sketched on the floor with the glowing ink of a fluorescent squid from some faraway sea. Asra crushed ingredients – primrose, tea rose, powdered gingko biloba, ginseng, moon water – in a black pestle and mortar, creating a paste. The aura around everything felt _right_ to Xixa.

She could barely contain her excitement, she felt ready to burst. Yet Asra seemed sullen.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Xixa?” Asra asked, still holding the mortar in his hands. An uncharacteristic somberness filled the air around him.

“I’m sure this’ll work.” She smiled at the white-haired magician. “If it does, then we can do the same for Nadia!”

“You might remember things that are painful.” He ended his statement in a soft murmur, as if he were afraid to finish it.

She glanced at Julian, wondering if he heard Asra’s comment. She could only imagine what alarms Asra’s words would set off in the red-head. The doctor didn’t seem aware of the magician’s worries. He stared at a shelf of books, running his index finger over their spines. Turning her gaze back to Asra, Xixa smiled, “Whatever happens, I can overcome it.”

Asra stared into Xixa’s eyes, as if searching for an answer in her face. She couldn’t help but feel there was a strange bubble of emotion encompassing them. Whatever it was, she didn’t have time to figure it out before Asra sighed. He apparently came to a conclusion and nodded. “Then let’s get started.”

xxx

The two of them – doctor and apprentice – stood in the middle of the intricate, glowing sigil. The mixture Asra had been grinding was smeared over their foreheads. Asra intoned an incantation, in a long-dead language as he drew glowing symbols in the air with his fingers. The air fizzed with golden magic. A tang hung in the air, unidentifiable on the tastebuds.

“I feel like a basted turkey,” mumbled Julian, staring down at Xixa. “Do you feel any different?”

“Give it time,” hissed the woman. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the sigil’s glow intensified an iota. Though, she had to agree, the gunk on her forehead she felt like an entrée. She wanted to reach out to Julian, stroke his knuckles to calm his discomfort and impatience. How Asra would react to watching such a show, though, worried her. Especially during _this_ ritual.

“I’m just saying, when am I suppos-” Julian didn’t finish his petulant commentary. A throb shot across his brain, a grunt of pain rising from his lips. Heat licked across his forehead where the disgusting grime sat.

Xixa shared the look, raising her hand to her temple and wincing. The paste on her forehead seared and felt as if it were burning into her skin.

Asra continued to chant, purple eyes watching the woman intently.

The throb continued to radiate deep inside her head. It felt like it rippled through her brain, across her synapses and through every little wrinkle in her grey matter. Xixa bit her lip as heat licked across her thoughts. They all expected this, but it didn’t stop Julian from reaching out and cradling her against his chest.

Despite her preparedness and Asra’s presence, being allowed to lean into the doctor’s chest was a comfort Xixa couldn’t pass up. His solid body offered stability as his arms coiled protectively around her. She grappled at his arms, fingernails digging into his white sleeves.

“Xixa, are you okay?” He grunted, through his own pain.

The pain and heat pounded through her head. She couldn’t form any words of reassurance, but managed a nod.

Then, like a small leak, they dribbled in. The smallest memories cascaded into longer visions. Her mother and father, her grandparents, her _siblings._ Her first crush, her second, her third… Living in the town on the outskirts of the country and learning ‘the craft’ from the elders in town. Working year after year to get the money to leave her hometown. Coming to Vesuvia with her life savings. Making a name for herself as a fortuneteller and witch.

“It worked!” She gasped, pushing herself slightly from Julian, so she could see his face. His wide eye and slightly parted lips told her he was reliving his forgotten years, too. Though, he didn’t look as happy as she was.

Just as Julian’s gaze flicked to her face, something stirred in Xixa. A forgotten memory roused and stalked to the surface. Xixa blinked rapidly, her gaze falling to Julian’s chest as she became consumed by the reverie.

xxx

Two guards flanked her. Their hands tight around her upper arms, bruising her. They dragged her from a dark hallway, through a pair of dark doors, and into a brightly lit room. She struggled, kicking and cursing in the guards’ hands. Heart pounding like she had just sprinted across the city. Her knees and hands ached, like they were scraped. The sudden transfer from shadows to light made her eyes sting and her heart twinged with fear.

The scent of metal and antiseptic and… blood. _So much blood_.

Dr. Jules Devorak stood at the edge of the room, wearing a black apron and stooping over a dinged, metal desk. He looked pensively over papers, biting his bare thumb. At the slam of the doors and Xixa’s defiant show, his grey eyes flickered to the newcomers.

“Ah, the new… _winner_ ,” Dr. Jules sneered the word as his gaze swept up and down her body. Those eyes, those eyes her present-day consciousness loved loved, greeted her past self with distant unfamiliarity. Xixa’s stomach dropped under his inspection, but she still tried to wrench herself free of her captors.

There had been stories circulating the Marketplace for weeks. People being snatched at night, dragged away by palace guards, and returned a day or two later. No one had stepped forward to corroborate the rumors, but how could you if – after you were taken – you died? Vesuvia was huge; people came and went where the wind blew them. And if you were poor, seeking a lost friend or family member? Well, good luck getting someone to listen.

“I didn’t agree to this!” She cried, trying to twist her body free. The awareness of how alone she was pricked at the back of her thoughts. Her family was a long way off; her friends were transient, who understood the need to move and wouldn’t question her disappearance; other stall owners would be happy to snag her prime spot where her booth squatted.

Tendrils of her long teal hair – that’s right, she used to wear it long – escaped her braid and plastered against her sweat-slicked cheek. Her eyes darted around the room, stomach lurching at the brownish-red stains on the cement floor. Further away, near the center of the room, a body laid on a table with someone dressed in grey medical robes stooping over it.

 _Asr_ _a._ A brief overlay of another memory flitted through her. They had met before this, weeks or months prior. He ducked into her stall at the Marketplace, pointedly avoiding someone. She read his cards, he was impressed, and they continued to meet. Smiles and magic and fuzzy warmth…

In that moment, he couldn’t have been further from the man in her memory’s own reverie.

The magician bent over the unconscious figure – a patient? – fingers weaving golden magic along the man’s brow. Now, Xixa realized the man had a faint incision mark along his forehead, perhaps all around the circumference of his head, and it faded with each pass of Asra’s glowing fingers.

“Yes, we know. That’s why the Count started the lottery,” Dr. Jules drawled, returning Xixa’s attention to him. He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. The motion rough, without the tenderness that Xixa’s consciousness attributed to those hands. But, this wasn’t _her_ Julian. Bringing his free hand to her face, he brushed the stray strands away and tapped cool fingers against her temple. His lips twisted into a humorless grin. “We’re just going to take a peek at your brain. No worries, though, you’ll be asleep. By the time you wake up, you’ll be good as new.”

This couldn’t be happening, she thought. Her eyes swiveled around, from guard to guard. Both remained impassive and unmoved. Xixa repeated, her voice cracking under terror. “I didn’t agree to this!”

Asra had finished mending the last “winner” – or maybe kindly putting them out of their misery, her past self thought with paranoia – and meandered over to them. Her heart pounded, realizing fresh red stained his robes. He was wiping his hands clean on a dirty rag, a strained look pinched at his brows. His purple eyes flitted to Xixa’s face, then away.

Her consciousness sensed his shame and discomfort, even after all these years.

Her past self latched onto this, too. She jerked toward him, but the guards remained steadfast. That didn’t stop her warbling pleas. “Don’t let him do this to me! You know this isn’t right!”

Hot tears brimmed in Xixa’s eyes, horror clenching at her chest. Dr. Jules wandered off to a rolling table she hadn’t spotted before, preparing macabre looking instruments that looked more at home in a torture dungeon. He was pulling on elbow-length rubber gloves and whistling. This was just another day, another patient, for him. Everything so routine in his movements and demeanor.

Meanwhile, Xixa’s breaths heaved, hot and humid and trapped in her lungs. It was as if a storm of fright churned inside her. Terror locked around her ribs, making her chest cavity feel smaller, tighter. Adrenaline lightning strikes arced out over her body, her senses on hyper-alert to find _some_ escape. Asra had closed the distance between them, now.

“ _Please_ , _Asra_ ,” she sobbed quietly, shoulders shaking. Hot rivulets streamed down her cheeks.

All shame had fled Asra’s face. In its place, his mask of shadowy distance. Present-Day Xixa had seen that look so many times before, so many times when he tried to maintain an emotional wall, tried to keep her from going catatonic. This time, he used it to shutter a mental wall between them.

“Relax,” he murmured, a melodic lilt to his words. She could sense the magic snaking through in the air, could see the glow at his fingertips. Xixa whimpered, shaking her head savagely, knowing as soon as the magic bit her, as soon as he _touched_ her, it’d be over. His gentle palm pressed to her forehead, regardless. “Relax and sleep.”

The rattle of metallic instruments, soon to be lodged into her brain, lulled her into darkness.

x x x

When Xixa surfaced from her reverie, she felt like a drowning person finally breaking the surf. Her mind wobbled around her. Her fingers curled, clenching into soft fabric. Someone held her, repeated her name with concern as their hands held her up.

Her eyes turned upward, zeroing on the source of the noise. A grey eye stared down at her, a blur of black where another eye should be, a shock of red hair. Red hair like blood.

_So much blood._

 


	2. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With memories returned to Xixa and Julian, pains arise. Unable to take the confusion around the doctor and the magician, Xixa takes off into the night. Meanwhile, Asra and Julian are left to a confrontation of their own.

When Xixa surfaced from her reverie, she felt like a drowning person finally breaking the surf. Her mind wobbled around her. Her fingers curled, clenching into soft fabric. Someone held her, repeated her name with concern as their hands held her up.

Her eyes turned upward, zeroing on the source of the noise. A grey eye stared down at her, a blur of black where another eye should be, a shock of red hair. Red hair like blood.

_So much blood._

She shoved herself away from Julian, stumbling back. A hot driblet coasted down her cheek and she swiped it away, shocked to realize she was still crying. Her gaze swiveled from the doctor to the magician, heart pounding. She wanted to sound righteously angry, to boom like the heavens, but Xixa found her words coming out like a breathless, watery whimper. “You… You _both_ cut into my brain?”

The expression that shot over Julian’s face painted a picture of horror and regret. His eye wide, his lips twisted into a condemned frown. His hand dug into his hair, his thumb inconspicuously rubbing at his temple. “I’m… I’m so _sorry_ , Xixa. If I had known, I wouldn’t have…”

Whatever Julian wouldn’t have done died with that sentence. He couldn’t return his eyes to Xixa’s face. She whipped her gaze from him to his accomplice, seeking an answer.

Asra remained silent, his mask in place. The mask he used to distance himself from Xixa when she was too close to remembering; the mask he used to put her to sleep, _before a scalpel bisected her brain_. Of course, she wouldn’t get an answer from him. She _never_ did. Hot anger flared in her chest, burning in her guts.

Xixa couldn’t breath… Or she was breathing too much. Her lungs ached and her chest heaved. Heat ate across her face as adrenaline and confusion licked at her thoughts. She felt like she was back in that operating room, her eyes swiveling to and fro. Her hands clenched into fists, relaxed, and tightened again. She backed out of the sigil, further from Julian and Asra. Her thoughts kept switching to and fro, gifting her with sharp images of the past each second she stared at them.

She needed to make sense of this, to untangle the thoughts and feelings knotted up inside her. Before she could even think of where to start, her feet were running. Xixa pounded out of the shop and into the night, tears blurring her vision while deception chased her through the night. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she had to _get away_.

“Xixa!” Julian yelled, head snapping up at the sound of the door opening. He jolted for the door, ready to pursue her. The white-haired magician darted in front of the doctor, though, barring his path. “ _Asra_! Get out of the way!”

“Let her go,” Asra muttered, unable to look Julian in the eye. Oh, that _look._ That shadowy eyed, distant look. Julian despised it. So many nights, agonizing over that distressing sight.

“But she-”

“She’s hurting right now and needs space, Ilya!”

Julian froze. Ice formed in his veins as he turned a cold, grey gaze on Asra. How _dare_ Asra call him that? After… _everything?_ Julian’s clenched his hands, swallowing the urge to punch the magician. He had promised Xixa he’d be nice, tonight. He’d honor that, even if she wasn’t present. Yet, he couldn’t choke down the venom on his tongue. “ _You’d_ know about space, would you? Distance keeps _you_ safe, but what about everyone else, Asra?”

The two of them glared at each other in the doorway of the shop. Electric hostility flashed between them. If a moth happened between them, surely it would burn to a crisp.

“You were always too clingy for your own good,” hissed Asra, grabbing Julian by the collar.

“Really? _Now_?” Julian nearly howled. A cocktail of feelings swarmed his head, pounding his thoughts with conflicting emotions. Maybe it was the revival of the memories, or maybe the feelings he had for Asra never entirely died, but hearing those words from the magician still sent a knife through his gut.

Grabbing Asra by the wrists, Julian easily peeled him from his collar and shoved him away. The doctor moved for the open door, intent on following after Xixa.

A sudden slam to his side sent Julian hurtling against the doorjamb. Asra huffed, eyebrows lowered as he glared, “Yeah, _now.”_

A small part of Julian didn’t want to do this. The small part that remembered Asra as a light among tedious days of research; the small part that remembered the way his heart fluttered whenever Asra teased or taunted him. However, that part was being drowned out by the pain of fresh-old memories, worry for Xixa, and Julian’s own self-hatred at his past, stupid self.

Julian’s knuckles landed solidly against Asra’s right cheek, sending the magician stumbling out the shop door. The next punch mirrored the first, knocking Asra further into the street. The candlelight from the shop wavered around the two figures, Asra dazedly bumbling and Julian stalking like a hellbent shadow. As Julian snatched Asra by his collar, holding his fist up for a third strike, something gripped at his arm.

The doctor glanced down, meeting a familiar reptilian sight. Faust coiled around his arm, head wobbling low near his elbow. It was as if she was pleading with him to stop. Julian paused, letting his rage-filled fog lift. Slowly, he lowered his fist. Something was wrong.

Asra was a ridiculously powerful sorcerer. _He could take away memories._ He probably had a slew of spells or hexes he could shoot at Julian. Yet, here he was, limp as a rag doll and not even putting up a fight.

What was he doing, then? Keeping Julian busy and away from Xixa by taking a beating? Maybe, a beating he felt he deserved? The very thoughts resonated in the doctor, on both contrary and kindred levels.

The doctor released Asra and the man fell to his knees, catching himself with one arm while cradling his familiar with the other.

“Remind me to write you a prescription,” Julian growled, while staring down at the heap of magician at his feet. Asra looked up at him, silent and curious as the doctor bent into a crouch. Blood seeped from Asra’s lip and a bruise marked his right cheek. Asra tensed as Julian slid gentle hands to either side of his head, one palm supporting the bruised cheek and the other slightly resting on his busted lip. Julian sneered as the mark on his throat glowed. Slowly, his own lip split and the purple of a bruise licked across his cheek. “For your _fucking_ emotional constipation.”

A few moments later, Asra remained kneeling on the hard ground, staring after the dwindling form of the doctor. His violet eyes wide, unable to comprehend what had just transpired. His physical pain had left with Julian, but a different ache remained. As the doctor hurtled through the night, ready to face the metaphorical gallows for his past crimes against Xixa, Asra remained in the dirt. Alone.

Faust gave a tender squeeze, coiled up his arm. Her tongue flickered out against his neck, whispering against his skin. No, he wasn’t alone, but he was a step closer to losing someone he cared about…

Asra’s fingers dug into the stones beneath him. A pulse of pain shot through his heart and trembled down his arms, into his chest, to his stomach. The ache sunk into his bones. The thought of Xixa leaving – and who would blame her – after what she learned tore him up. Ironic, considering the many times he had left her. Tears dribbled from his eyes, plopping into the dusty road, as he hung his head. Sickness settled in his stomach like a rock; he didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.

“Faust,” Asra whimpered, bringing the snake to his chest. She writhed against him, trying to comfort him. He hunched over the creature as the tears continued to pour out, “What am I going to do?”


	3. Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xixa finds herself at the palace, seeking comfort from Portia and Nadia.

“Faust,” Asra whimpered, bringing the snake to his chest. She writhed against him, trying to comfort him. He hunched over the creature as the tears continued to pour out, “What am I going to do?”

x x x

Standing in the palace garden, Xixa wondered what she was going to tell Nadia as she stared into the fountain. After making her way to the palace and pleading for an audience with the Countess – being well-known by the servants, by now – she had been escorted to the garden. Apparently, Nadia was entertaining courtiers and this area was the only ‘out of the way’ option. Xixa rolled her eyes, thinking of the wine-happy gossips.

“Xixa? What brings you to the palace at this late hour?” Nadia had appeared, Portia in tow. The light from the palace haloed around them, glinting off the gold embroidery in the Countess’s luxurious dress and catching the handmaid’s highlights.

At the sight of them, the chill of loneliness dissipated. Xixa smiled, approaching the bottom of the stairs and willing herself to remain strong, to not cry. Then her lips started to tremble, tears cresting her lashes. A renewed wave of sobs caught in her throat, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“What’s wrong?” Portia gasped, rushing down the stairs, quicker to react than Nadia. The Countess had frozen, a look of slight shock on her features at Xixa’s sudden tears. The red-head closed the distance between herself and Xixa, gathering the distraught woman in her arms. “Did Ilya do something?”

“It’s a long story,” hiccuped Xixa, clinging to Portia.

“It always seem to be with him,” sighed Nadia, coldly. She neared Xixa, pressing a calming hand to her shoulder.

“Tell us all about it,” Portia soothed, patting Xixa’s hand. Gently, the handmaiden led Xixa to the lip of the fountain, coaxing her to sit. As soon the other two settled on either side of her, Xixa closed her eyes, deciding on the best place to start. Behind them, the fountain burbled gently, a soothing litany contrasting a chaotic story.

x x x

Silence settled around the three of them when Xixa finished. The only sound came from the fountain and the snuffling of Mercedes and Melchior as they huffed at the ladies’ feet. Xixa fiddled with the hem of her shirt, biting her bottom lip.

“I can order them both to be hanged,” came Nadia’s sudden answer.

Portia peered around Xixa, pursing her lips and throwing her Countess an unamused look. “I don’t think now is the time to joke, milady.”

“Who says I’m joking?” Nadia leveled a cool stare at her handmaid, raising a prim eyebrow.

“No,” Xixa shook her head, suddenly. The Countess and Portia turned to her with curious looks. As she retold the story, the witch had reassessed the situation, remembering finer details of the year. “Count Lucio started the lottery, demanding test subjects for Dr. Jules… Julian.”

“But, who do you think had the idea to…” Nadia wrinkled her nose, “Crack open skulls?”

Said bluntly, it was a rather gruesome picture. Though, Xixa wasn’t a doctor and didn’t know what the brain had to do with the Red Plague. She had ran away from the man – or people – who did know. Or, at least, had the best idea.

“I don’t know. Maybe Julian or another physician. The ‘best minds of the land’ were here to save the Count, right?” Xixa sighed, rubbing at her eyes. There were too many fingers in the Red Plague Cure honey pots. Any number of people could have suggested the research, even Lucio himself.

The question was, why did Asra and Julian participate in it? Asra, at least, seemed conflicted. Julian, though? He didn’t seem unnerved by the duty, at all. Maybe that’s what upset Xixa the most. The night at the Rowdy Raven, when Asra’s Emperor card had been stolen and she was sent on a wild goose chase, Julian seemed upset by the sketches of the grey matter. Was that an act?

Portia’s soft voice drew Xixa out from her introspection. She sounded hesitant to poise her question. It was almost lost under the bubbling chortle of the fountain. “Does this mean they did the same to you, milady?”

Another silence, awkward and contemplative. Even the dogs stopped their loud snuffling.

“It’s possible, I suppose.” Nadia picked her words carefully, despite the soft dismay in her tone. The Countess shifted on the edge of the fountain. “If my name was drawn in the lottery, I would have gone through with it without hesitation. Be an example for my people."

Silence fell again. They were all picturing Nadia – proud, graceful Nadia – lying on a table, a scalpel dragging across her forehead. Blood beading from the wound. All for Count Lucio’s cure.

“Milady, you have _another_ visitor.” A guard, thankfully, interrupted the image before it became too vivid. Six eyes turned to the top of the stairs as the woman announced, “Dr. Julian Devorak.”

 

x x x

 

Julian dragged a hand down his face. Had it truly only been a few hours? The injuries he had taken from Asra were mostly healed, but it felt like ages since he last saw Xixa. He sighed and completed another circuit of pacing. The guards wouldn’t allow him onto the palace grounds. Not that he could logically blame them, but his agitated worry had complaints.

After checking at the Rowdy Raven and Mazelinka’s, Julian finally decided to try the palace. He knew the likelihood of her being there was greater, but he’d hoped she’d go elsewhere. Getting into the Countess’s presence, let alone her grounds, tended to prove difficult. Though the guards hadn’t treated him with the utmost civility, they had the decency to confirm Xixa’s presence at the palace.

At least he knew she was safe. Portia and Nadia wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her. For that, Julian could be thankful. He rolled over things to say to Xixa when he saw her. If he saw her. Apologies and explanations flooded his head, fresh understanding with the returned memories.

The clunk of the elaborate gates caught Julian’s ear. His attention flicked to the gateway, holding his breath. The guard re-appeared, straight-backed and gleaming in armor as she returned to her post. And then…

A mess of teal hair and an opalescent gaze. Julian sagged with relief, running to the woman. He flung his arms around her, pulling her close to his body. “Xixa! I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“Julian,” Xixa said, pushing herself to arm’s length. “Space, _please_.”

An icy chill shot through Julian’s stomach. Asra’s recent words echoed in his ears. He pulled his arms away, standing stiffly away from Xixa. Dropping his gaze to his feet, he whispered, “Right, I’m sorry.”

Awkward silence strung out between them, tenuous and thin. If one of them didn’t say something soon, Julian feared that answered his questions. Finally, Xixa spoke, “You’ll hate this, but I’ll need space for awhile. To figure out how I feel about everything.”

“Of course.” Julian nodded, but a dreadful cold crept in to his bones. Something stung at the back of his eye, but he ignored it.“I…I’m sure Mazelinka will let me stay with her.”

Xixa nodded, hugging her arms around herself. The knot in her stomach weighed heavily, watching Julian’s crestfallen expression. During the walk from the gardens to the gates – again alone, per her own request – Xixa realized she needed to sort out her feelings. Her heart ached to touch Julian, though; to brush her lips against his, to coax the blush across his face and a smile to his lips. Brief flashes of his operating room shattered through the thought. She bit her lip, digging her fingernails into her arms. “I have questions.”

Julian looked up at Xixa, raising his eyebrows. A little ember of hope flickered in his chest, but he didn’t want to stoke it too much.

The magician licked her lips, trying to work up the courage to ask her question. Fear dragged the words back down her throat, though. What if his answer wasn’t good enough? What if he lied or gave a half-answer? She had been fed a lot of those. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Xixa braced herself. There was only one way to find out. “Why did you and Asra do it?”

Julian blinked a few times, maybe cycling through excuses at the back of his head. Finally, he looked down at his feet and muttered, “Count Lucio ordered it.”

A cold breeze blew between the two figures. Her breath was caught in her throat, disappointed and disgusted at his answer.

“You didn’t have to do it!” Xixa took a step forward, her arm flew out, extended aimlessly to indicate all of his options. “You could have defied him or came up with an excuse _not_ to crack open people’s skulls!”

He inhaled sharply, Xixa’s confrontational words like a slap across his face. When he spoke again, his words were soft and ashamed, “I was confident I could find a cure. I just had to work hard enough… But others? They weren’t so confident, so Count Lucio blackmailed and threatened. Their loved ones were often at risk.

“I kept my family a secret. He had no sway over me, other than my _own_ _ego_.” Bitterness over his own pride caught at the end of his sentence. Julian turned his gaze to Xixa, though his focus seemed to be far away. Another place, another time. Maybe even another Julian. “Until I met a beautiful, beguiling magician.”

Xixa’s heart quickened. This part, she was familiar with. “Asra.”

“Yes.” Her voice roused Julian’s focus toward her. Xixa couldn’t begin to decipher the emotions tangled up behind his eye. The doctor’s brows lowered into consternation and frustration as he continued, “Lucio wasn’t a stupid man. Extravagant and gaudy, but not stupid. He took note of my attraction and used it to fuel me to work longer hours for a cure, even prompting… less refined techniques to be explored.”

_“Like forced brain surgery?”_

Julian silently nodded. His gaze fell to his feet as another wave of bitterness and frustration seeped into his words. “As I worked harder, Asra grew lazier with his work. Lucio took notice and would make veiled threats. Asra didn’t seem to care, but I was constantly terrified of losing him and exhausted trying to eliminate the plague.”

It was unspoken between them, but they both knew why Asra stopped focusing on a solution. It had been Xixa. Her presence in his life distracted him and, after the brain bisection, he had taken her in. For some reason. Maybe something went wrong with the surgery. Maybe he took an extra stepped and wiped her memories of the night, hoping to see her smile at the market the next day. Whatever the reason, Asra became her self-appointed master.

“I made a lot of awful choices, but I was looking for a cure. I may have come to the brain research conclusion, myself,” Julian sighed, glancing off to the side. His gaze fell onto the city, itself, trailing over the buildings. Vaguely, the days of unrepentant Red Plague outbreaks licked at his thoughts. People stumbling in the streets, eyes red and a fever sweating out their brow, being swarmed by palace guards to be ushered into quarantine. Dead piled, out of sight. His house calls to the rich, the poor, the elderly, and young. If a cure, or a hint, could have been found in the wrinkled grey matter of the brain, would he have ignored it _without_ Count Lucio’s prompting? Julian doubted it.

But, with Xixa looking at him as she was, a mixture of confusion, hurt, and – his heart twinged – disgust. Julian didn’t want that look on her face. “Had I known what I know now, though...”

“Others were under your scalpel, not just me.” Xixa crossed her arms tightly over her chest, turning her gaze from him. She couldn’t bear to look at him, any longer. “And, even if you didn’t operate on me, you’d still operate on others.”

“I know.” He hung his head, offering no excuses. His red hair shielded him from her gaze.

“How many?” The question was abrupt, popping out of her mouth before Xixa even realized she had it. “How many did you do this to?”


	4. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions become palatable as Julian and Xixa discuss what happened before the memory loss.

“How many?” The question was abrupt, popping out of her mouth before Xixa even realized she had it. “How many did you do this to?”

“I… I don’t know.” He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose and clenching his eye shut. A headache, unrelated to lost memories, throbbed at his temples. Even with his memories returned, it had been years. The paperwork was a mess of ink and parchment, foggy and faded in his mind’s eye. “Maybe a hundred? Maybe less, maybe more.”

Xixa fell silent, looking out over Vesuvia. How many people wandered the streets, their brain violated? Did they have similar memory loss? Or was it just Xixa that lost _so much?_ Even when compared to Julian and Nadia, she thought greater swaths of her memory were missing. Maybe it was a combination of the surgery _and_ Asra’s memory magic that affected her more greatly. Briefly, she closed her eyes and rubbed at her temple, slightly wondering if she could feel a forgotten scar.

It wasn’t until Julian’s uncertain footfalls that she opened her eyes. He had closed the distance between them, but still remained at arm’s length. He shifted from foot to foot, arms tightly crossed over his chest and body slightly hunched, eye averted. If she hadn’t know better, she’d think he was staving off a chill. “Xixa?”

She made a non-committal hum, acknowledging his presence to speak. Her throat gummed with too many emotions, she didn’t trust herself to say anything.

“It’s good this happened. I mean, _I_ could live without my memories,” he flashed her his familiar bitter smile, before his expression softened. Sincerity creased his brow, “But you had so much more missing. If… If our relationship was the price for this? I can live with that, if you’re happy and complete.”

The words hit something in her chest, sending shuddering reverberations through her bones. Tears started to brimmed in Xixa’s eyes, but she forced them down. Her arms tightened around her, fighting the urge to fling around him and cry into his chest. She had wanted her memories, _so badly_. But had it been worth tainting her feelings for Julian?

Longing grew in Julian, a longing to gather Xixa up in his arms as she bit back tears. He wanted to stroke her hair and caress her back, give her comfort as sobs shook her until she was done. But he didn’t. She wanted – no, _needed_ – space. He had to respect that.

A worry that she hated him, now, kept creeping into his thoughts. And, if it were a substaniated worry, any touch from him was unwanted.

“I’m not happy,” she whimpered.

“What?” His heart stuttered. An iciness settled across his flesh, making his stomach quiver. He could hear the dreadful words on her lips already, ‘ _I hate you, Julian Devorak._ ’

“I’m not happy,” Xixa repeated, voice breaking. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as she went on, fighting back tears, “All I want to do is touch you, be wrapped up in you, but I keep remembering _that room_ and my heart pounds and…”

Her hands gripped the side of her head, fingers digging into her hair.

The distance between them seemed to grow in Julian’s mind. What was he supposed to do? She wanted to touch him, but at the same time, fear gripped her whenever she looked at him. His fingers flexed, the urge to hold her mounting along his arms. Asra’s words resonated through his thoughts, taunting him. She was in pain, she needed space; she didn’t need him clinging all over her.

Yet…

“Julian, _please_ ,” Xixa whispered. It was a plea from somewhere deep in her chest, where misery festered. For the first time since Julian met Xixa – including the forgotten moments – he saw her struck with vulnerability. And it kept crashing down on her.

In the operating room, she spat righteous fear until Asra quieted her. At her shop, long after the Count’s death and Julian became a fugitive doctor, she had the nerve to throw a bottle at him. Even when she was bitten by the vampire eel, she had a silent acceptance about the whole thing. Julian couldn’t stop himself.

The heat of his body closed around Xixa before she knew what was happening. Blankly, she stared at his chest, simply letting him hold her.

When Xixa didn’t tense or push away, Julian tightened his hold around her body. His hand cradled the back of her head and he buried his face in her hair. Inhaling her scent, catching the perfumes of the palace on her, Julian realized he started to tremble. Her hands drifted to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt tightly. Shudders racked her body, the tears coming harder than before. Pressing her forehead against his chest, Julian’s heart thundered in her ears while he blubbered into her hair, “I am so sorry, Xixa. So, so sorry.”

He could feel her tears soaking his shirt, leaving it soppy and cold. Each tremble of her body sent a slice of guilt through his body. Tears burned at Julian’s eyes. There could never be any way he could make this violation up to her, but he’d damn well try. If she’d allow him.

The doctor cradled the apprentice against his chest until her sobs subsided. When her breathing became deep and even, Julian dared to speak.

“Xixa?” Tilting back, he tried to catch a glimpse of Xixa’s eyes. They fluttered at the sound of her name. Even from this angle, he could tell her eyes were puffy from crying. He trailed a hand down her back, the evidence of her sadness quietly killing him.

She shifted against him, absently smoothing his shirt with her still trembling hands. Warmth and safety resonated from Julian. How could she forget this? How could one memory throw her whole world into a tumult? Her eyes flickered close as she sighed, “Julian, take me home.”

If moving broke this moment – if this was the last time he held Xixa in his arms – Julian was guilty of staying still to make it last. Her body, flush against his. Able to feel every little shift. A soft warmth radiated from her, sinking into his bones. He waited until her breathing was deep and even, before scooping her into his arms.

He couldn’t stand there all night, though. With mild regret, he hoisted her into his arms and headed toward the magic shop.

After their figures dwindled in the dark, the guards shifted. An awkward tension still hung about the gateway to the palace, but – this time – it belonged to the guards. One finally released a somewhat relieved sigh and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “That was pretty heavy, wasn’t it?”


	5. Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asra and Xixa have their confrontation over the regained memories.

Warm morning light spilled into Xixa’s bed. She moaned as the brightness taunted her eyelids and rolled over. Expecting to feel a warm body next to her, if not draped over her. The witch was somewhat disappointed when her hand met with empty pillows. Cracking an eye open, she cast a look around the room.

She was in her bed at the magic shop. Groggily, the recollections from yesterday piled into her head. Sitting up, she rubbed a palm against her eyes, and wondered where Julian was. He must have brought her home. Did he go to Mazelinka’s? Her heart sank a little, realizing he was honoring her request. Xixa worried her bottom lip with her teeth, partially wishing she hadn’t asked for space and partially knowing it was for the best.

At least, until things were sorted out.

Making her way to the front of the store, Xixa was surprised to find Asra there, apparently taking inventory. He abhorred the job. Anything with numbers or deadlines tended to put him off. Xixa wasn’t actually sure how he ran a business. Though, thinking about the years passed, perhaps she actually did his job for him.

“You’re up.” Asra’s eyes lit onto her as she stepped into the room. Xixa noticed Faust coiled around Asra’s arm, like a fancy bangle.

“Yes, did Julian leave?”

The magician immediately dragged his gaze away from her. He nodded tersely, returning to the sheets he was poring over, “Said something about staying with a friend.”

“Ah,” Xixa muttered without much cause. Her eyes dragged around the shop, now not so surprised that nothing here had Asra’s magic essence when she needed it. She had spent most of the last few years here. Everything here was hers. The aura of magic that surrounded this shop was hers.

Feeling comforted by that thought, she turned her gaze back to Asra. He seemed to be entirely focused on the crystal vials. Vaguely, she wondered just how far he truly got into inventory. There was no point in sugarcoating this. He either answered or didn’t. A small, dusty part of her heart wasn’t sure which would hurt more. “You knew the whole time.”

“Knew what?” His voice dipped up an octave, his conversational tone strained.

Xixa simply stared at him. “About the surgery.”

His hand stuttered on a vial of rose quartz shards, before drawing away. Hanging his head, Asra threw Xixa a sidelong glance. He had feared this moment, since Julian brought her home. With a swallow, he managed a “...yes.”

Xixa drew a deep breath, fighting off rage. She expected explanations, excuses, anything. But, yet again, Asra kept it obfuscated. Clenching her hands into fists, she could only manage one word, “ _Why?_ ”

“Last night is why,” he replied, eyes hooded and voice cold. He didn’t even turn to look at her. His hands continued to fidget with merchandise on the shelf, moving from the vials to some packages of dried herbs. Possibly feeling Xixa’s hot glare on his back, Asra managed to find a vocabulary to continue. “I knew the people we touched were changed and I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to live with the scar of that fear. That’s why I took the memories right after surgery. So, you wouldn’t have to relive that pain, that fright, ever again.”

Xixa’s brain swam with a school of emotions. Anger, rage, confusion, hurt, betrayal, indignation, violation. They all swarmed her thoughts, eating away at any coherent string like piranhas. To make matters worse, Asra spoke in such a calm, soft way. She wanted to scream, but settled for a firm snarl, “But you took those memories against my consent!”

“Yes.” Asra’s voice dipped, becoming deeper and a little rough. His fingers froze on a small metal incense burner, finger tapping the lid impatiently. “I didn’t know it’d nearly destroy you.”

“You didn’t need to know that.” Xixa slammed a hand down on the counter, finally earning a startled look from Asra. She didn’t care whether she scared the magician or not. Tears burned at the back of her eyes and her head pounded with a headache. “You took memories without regard to my own wishes!”

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to make the tears go away. A blunt, squeezing pain sunk around Asra’s chest. Something scratched at the back of his thoughts, something he knew he _should_ do. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. This wasn’t how he dreamed everything would turn out. In his fantasies, there was no Julian, no tears, and – shamed as he was to realize it – no painful memories. That had been foolish, wishful thinking. Asra should have known better.

“Xixa, I did what I thought was best,” Asra said, gently. Like a parent speaking softly to an upset child. He turned his gaze back to the shelf, unable to watch Xixa sniffle and tear up any longer. “I’ve always done what I thought was best… That’s all anyone can ask of me.”

He wasn’t even taking accountability, realized Xixa as a pain settled in her chest. A sudden epiphany flashed through her brain, bringing a hot wash of anger. Her eyebrows lowered and a frown etched over her lips as she crossed her arms. Quietly, with an almost deathly tone, she murmured, “Julian was doing what he had to, as well, to cure the Red Plague. Yet, he still apologized to me.”

The magician closed his eyes – seemingly in pain – and took a deep breath. He let it out in one, low sound. “Xixa…”

“Even if you had the best intentions, at the time, you can apologize _now_.”

She waited for his response. Silence wrapped around them while, outside, the trundle of a cart passed by the shop. The rest of Vesuvia was waking. On the eave, outside, a raven croaked. Xixa tightened her grip around herself.

When too long had passed, when it became apparent the white-haired man wasn’t going to add anything to the conversation, Xixa had a choice to make. Drop it, as she always had, or… “Asra, get out of my shop.”

He whipped his purple gaze, wide-eyed and almost crystalline, toward her face. “But this is my store…”

“Who kept it running when you went off on your travels?” Xixa took her first step toward the man, since this whole confrontation started. “Who paid rent and taxes by doing readings all through the day and night?” She reached out to Asra’s hands, gently removing the inventory papers from his lax hold. “Who kept it clean and well-stocked?”

Xixa let the questions sink into Asra’s brain for a moment as she turned away, looking over his work. As expected, he hadn’t actually checked anything off. Which was fine. He always messed up inventory in the past. With her back still turned to the magician, Xixa added with a sharp tone, “I’m willing to bet Nadia will consider me the rightful owner.”

Asra stiffened and became colder with Xixa’s words. So, this was it. There was no point in protesting. He knew Nadia would side with her. Especially if the Countess knew about what they’d done to the lottery recipients – herself included. He hung his head, hand drifting from the vials of crystal. “As you wish, Xixa.”

 


	6. Been Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the confrontation with Asra, wherein Xixa tells him to leave the shoppe, she seeks out Julian. At Mazelinka's, the two have a discussion on what to do.

As soon as she got dressed, Xixa made her way to Mazelinka’s home. She assumed Asra would lock up the shop when he left. If he didn’t… She sighed, thinking over the confrontation with him. It didn’t end the way she wanted it to. Xixa wanted answers, wanted closure from Asra, wanted to be able to move forward. How could she do that if he didn’t seem apologetic?

“Told Ilya not to fret about you,” Mazelinka opened the door before Xixa even had a chance to knock. “Boy was up all night, worrying himself to death, so I put him to work cleaning. My floors are going to be cleaner than the palace’s.”

The old woman cackled to herself as she motioned for Xixa to come inside. As Xixa entered, her eyes adjusting to the change in light, her gaze fell on Julian. He seemed intent on his work, scrubbing at the floor. A ragged kerchief was tied hastily around his head, keeping his hair from his face as he moved, and the arms of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He looked positively domestic.

Xixa watched him for a beat, a wry grin on her face. Finally, she had to ruin the scene. “You have dirt on your cheek.”

Julian started, jolting to his feet. His head smacked on the dirt ceiling, dirtying his face more. Flushing in embarrassment and frustration, the man stooped a little, rubbing ruefully at his head. “Mazelinka, you need a taller ceiling!”

“ _You_  need shorter legs, boy.” Mazelinka parried, swatting Julian with a rag. After making a comment about needing to check out the Market, the old woman left the hut.

As soon as the door shut behind Mazelinka, Xixa edged closer to Julian. She eyed him, up and down, seeing the old and new doctor at once. But, that didn’t change her desire to touch him, this time. The witch looped her arms around his middle, hugging him close.

Julian arched over her, his arms coiling around her body. Gentle hands stroked her back for a breath, simply enjoying her heat against him. However, things had to be said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” Xixa murmured, cheek pressed against his chest. His chest hair scratched at her skin, sending pleasant prickles down her neck.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned back, trying to get a better look at her face.

With a heavy sigh, Xixa pushed away from Julian. For some reason, she wasn’t completely sure how the doctor was going to take her news. “I kicked Asra out of the shop.”

It took Julian’s brain a few seconds to process the information. Xixa shifted uneasily in the quiet. Still, a flat and flabbergasted grunt left his lips, “What.”

“Asra’s gone.” Xixa had to force the words out, a knot in her stomach tightening with each syllable. She threw Julian a tight smile, trying to alleviate the tangle in her tummy. “I thought you’d be clicking your heels with delight.”

“Well…” That would have been true before regaining their memories. But, something had reawakened in Julian. A fondness for Asra? Remembering the situation he and the magician were in during the plague research, before, in its entirety had clicked a few pieces into place. “What happened?”

“We talked about the operation. He kept saying things like ‘I did what I felt was best’ and ‘that’s all anyone can expect of me.’” Xixa could feel her ire rising as she repeated Asra’s words. Tension raked over her muscles. “It’s like he was going out of his way to not apologize.”

Julian’s mind was swirling with thoughts and digging up the revived memories, fighting off years of natural deterioration. At times, he followed Asra around like a puppy, wanting more and more attention. Back then, he didn’t recognize – or maybe didn’t want to see – the discomfort it caused the magician. There were a few instances where Asra just disappeared on their ‘dates.’ “I’m guessing you and Asra had some history before that day.”

Xixa glanced to the floor, before returning her gaze up to Julian. It was a bit shameful, looking back, but it was the truth. “…yes. He said he had a partner of sorts, but just needed a break sometimes.”

“I’ve been thinking, since I couldn’t sleep.” Julian sardonically motioned toward the clean home. “Asra and I weren’t the greatest. I lavished him with affection that he didn’t really want, while hoping for some small scrap back. I was so hungry for  _anything_  from him.” A pained expression crossed Julian’s face as the feelings washed over him, refreshed from the memories. He shook his head, clenching his hands on his knees. “But Asra did a lot of work to help you. I’m not sure  _what_ , of course, but he kept you close-”

“And kept erasing my memories.” Xixa interjected, bitterly.

“-to keep you safe.” Julian threw Xixa a mixed look, of understanding and exasperation with a cocked eyebrow. “He didn’t know his mistake until it was made. And then the problems just piled on one another.”

There was a beat of silence as Xixa mulled over his words. Julian tensed, waiting for her response. There were so many different directions this could go.

“Are you seriously making excuses for him?” Xixa snapped, crossing her arms, nails digging into her skin. Fire roused in her chest, she could barely believe she was hearing this lecture from  _Julian_. Her head was beginning to pound with agitation.

“No,” sighed Julian. Suddenly, it seemed like the lack of sleep was catching up to him. “But I can understand wanting to save someone you love, no matter the cost. Asra probably realized all this would happen if your memories returned. Your anger, your resentment, your potential abandonment.”

Julian had mulled over these thoughts all night, while scrubbing dirt and grime from Mazelinka’s wood floors. Imagining Asra tormenting himself with thoughts like that, for years, was something Julian could relate to. “He wasn’t close with me, though he agreed to be with me. But you?”

He turned, catching Xixa’s opalescent gaze. His heart twinged with guilt, recalling last night’s water works. The tears, the pain. Residual aches still sliced through his chest and throbbed through his head. He had held the scalpel to her flesh, her skull, her brain. If he thought hard enough, he could remember the squish and the crack and the sensation of metal through grey matter. He couldn’t even imagine how much more painful everything would have been had he known Xixa before.

Yet, he would have done as the Count told him. Just as Asra had done. If only to save Xixa from Lucio’s retributive rage had they spared her the surgery.

Faintly, Julian wondered if Asra recalled how it felt to pierce magic into her skull, but he shook the treacherous memories away. Most likely, the white-haired magician did, and drowned in shame every time he looked at her. At least, that’s what Julian wanted to believe.

“There was no formal commitment between you two, but he stayed with you. He stayed, suffering with his own past memories of you, still trying to save you, while you grew and changed and… got involved with his former lover.” At this, Julian gave a wry smile. Xixa smacked him on the shoulder, which only broadened his grin. Shaking his head, Julian finished, “I think he loves you, dearly, and leaving is going to kill him.”

Silence descended on the pair. Xixa’s eyes trailed from Julian’s serious face to her feet. The doctor had good points. Deep in her heart, a mixed ache churned. Anger, frustration, and betrayal still hovered in her thoughts. However, a part of her – the part of her from before – thought of Asra fondly. That section of her mourned their possible parting. Heavily.

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Xixa’s arms tightened around herself, her gaze flicking to Julian. He stared at her, the dark circles under his eye deeper than yesterday. Sourly, she grumbled, “Abandon you and give him the flouncy happy ending he always dreamed of?”

“Well, now, I didn’t say  _that._ ” Julian’s lips twisted into a devilish grin. He leaned toward Xixa, putting his arms around her, “I’ve been playing with an idea, but I don’t know how welcome it’ll be.”

Xixa raised her eyebrows, curiosity piqued. An idea that may not be welcome? Knowing Julian it could be anything. Plus, who knew what eccentricities were revived with his memories? Leaning into his body, his heat eased her tensions. Closing her eyes as she pressed her head into his chest, Xixa sighed, “You’re full of those sorts of ideas, Julian. Let’s hear it.”


	7. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Xixa go after Asra, trying to get him to come home.

Green fronds, kissed with a blue dusting, edged an oasis. Pink reflections licked across the plants, sprinkling purple mixtures across the leaves. Blue luminescent creatures floated in the shadows, casting a glowing light into the darkness. In the distance, the setting sun turned orange sands purple and the sky turned a gentle teal.

“It’s like a rainbow vomited on the landscape.”

Xixa’s lips curled into a smile. Despite his rough language, Julian’s eye was wide with wonder, drinking in all the details of the dimension. It had taken some concentration, but she managed to transport herself and the doctor into this world.

She had a feeling, since this dimension – as broad and expansive as it was – was where Asra went to get away from her, it’d be his destination now.

“So, where do we start looking for the magician?” Julian finally had drank in enough details to satisfy him. He turned his grey eye to Xixa, who stared off into the distance.

“ _Julian_?”

Of course, Asra would see the tall doctor before Xixa. Julian stuck out like a dreary sore thumb among the colors. Asra’s purple eyes soon found her as soon she turned to look at him.

“Xixa.” It wasn’t even a question. It was more of a realization. She had brought Julian – _an interloper_ – into this realm. She was the reason for the intrusion. But, why? Confusion colored his face and made his brow dip.

The magician had come here, pondering where to go and what to do. The home he had known for the last few years – even if it was on-and-off - was now closed to. However, seeing Xixa there stirred a strange anticipation. Something akin to hope. But Asra couldn’t allow himself that fancy. She had made her stance, her feelings, very clear.

The woman stepped forward, glancing nervously toward Julian. The doctor motioned for her to go on, while he remained in his spot. Turning toward Asra, Xixa took a deep breath before speaking her rehearsed words, “I’m sorry I told you to leave. I… I was frustrated. You didn’t seem to be apologetic and I lashed out.”

Asra remained silent, guarded. The shadowy look had seeped across his face. He had distanced himself the moment Xixa made her appearance. He was still preparing for the worst. In the distance, a storm cloud roiled across the sky, flashing green lightning.

“Julian talked me through some things, tried to get me to understand your reasons. Our relationship may not be as it was,” Xixa hugged herself tightly, vulnerability making her raw, “And I’m disappointed that you wouldn’t apologize. But I still care about you and I–” She threw a glance toward Julian, who started to flush and avert his gaze. Xixa smiled and turned her attention to Asra, “ _We_ want you to come home.”

Confusion dotted Asra’s brow. His gaze flickered from Xixa to Julian. “You talked her into letting me return?”

“I didn’t talk her into anything.” Julian still couldn’t bring his eye to Asra’s face. He crossed his arms, face red from ear to ear. “I just didn’t want her to make a decision she’d regret.”

Asra fell silent, his gaze falling to his feet. His world was turning upside down, yet again. _Julian_ doing anything to benefit Asra? The magician’s stomach clenched a little, perhaps from guilt or perhaps from uncertainty. Or perhaps he was so unused to not having a handle on the situation. Still, he murmured, “Thank you. Though, you got one thing wrong, Xixa.”

“What?” Bewilderment crossed her features, oozing into her voice.

“I _am_ sorry. About everything,” Asra hiccuped, eyes drawn to his feet. She had come for him, she was asking him to return. The years of fear, made true hours ago when she threw him out, withered. His hands buried into the cloth of his pants, fisting the fabric between his fingers. Tears burned at his eye, relief and regret tinging his thoughts. “I didn’t think it had to be said, I suppose.”

Xixa closed the distance between herself and the magician, wrapping her arms around his middle. Asra’s pinched features, the glimmer of tears on his eyelashes, softened her previous agitation. He had been just as lost as Julian. The doctor and the magician had a penchant for drama and trouble, but in very different ways, realized Xixa.

Asra started, surprised at the sudden affection. He couldn’t remember the last time Xixa hugged him, without reserve. Her warmth soaked into his body and his arms, hesitantly, snaked around her. His heart thrummed in his chest, nerves flickering with relief and excitement. Heat burned hotter at the edges of his eyes, his fingers digging into the witch as if she’d disappear.

He almost didn’t hear her soft reply, “Hearing it sometimes makes the difference, Asra.”

A silence fell over the three. Asra couldn’t help lowering his face into the crevice of Xixa’s neck and shoulder, closing his eyes. He basked in her scent, fragrances of incense and musk caught up in her hair. Faintly, he knew, tangled in her scent, was Julian’s. Somewhere inside the man, a quiver of confusion and excitement weaseled its way through his veins.

The little dimensional oasis fell quiet, watching them. Suddenly aware of their pause, the creatures chattered quietly amongst themselves. Gossiping about the situation as they glowed and skittered around the water and in the reeds.

It was Julian who broke the silence. With an awkward cough and shift of his stance, the doctor asked, “Do you want to ask the next thing, Xixa?”

Xixa craned her neck, grinning at the flush-faced man. She vaguely wondered what was going on in his mind. Watching your current lover embracing your former lover had to be a trip. Judging from Julian’s face, though, he just wanted to join in. With a teasing curl of her lips, Xixa couldn’t help making it harder on the man. “It’s your idea, Julian.”

“I think he’ll be more likely to agree if you present it to him.” Again, Julian shifted awkwardly. His crossed arms tightening across his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, tense and uncertain. In his eye, though, Xixa could see a glimmer of wayward hope.

“Be more likely to agree to what?” Asra lifted his head, purple gaze pinning Julian with a curious look.

The witch and doctor turned their attention to him, one reddening further and the other pinking at her cheeks. Julian looked nervous and fidgety, much like the Julian of old when the magician would drape himself over the poor man. Xixa’s grin turned wry, despite the tinge on her cheeks. They gave each other one last glance, before Julian cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Xixa and I might have a… a way you and her can be together and a way for me to be with her.”

Asra blinked, uncertain he had heard the doctor correctly.

“After going over our memories,” Xixa joined in, pushing Asra just far enough away to comfortably look into his face, “we think found something that may make us all happy.”

Julian took another step forward, within arm’s reach of the two magic users. “Xixa is important to me.”

“And Julian is important to me,” Xixa said softly, almost shyly. “But _you_ are important to both of us.”

Asra’s gaze flipped between Julian and Xixa. The doctor shifted under his gaze, obviously unnerved. Xixa watched Asra’s face with a quiet anticipation, her opalescent eyes trying to decode his own mask.

“Are you two suggesting we _all_ be together? All three of us?” Asra purple eyes went wide as muttered the words, almost not believing the proposal. Both of them sheepishly nodded, suddenly embarrassed under Asra’s wide-eyed look. The magician’s mind gnawed on the suggestion, picking apart the benefits and the flaws. On the one hand, he’d have to share Xixa with Julian. But was that really that bad? He could still recall Julian’s gentle touches from the past, save for the sole time the man grabbed Asra in frustration. Absently, Asra’s eyes flickered to his arm, still remembering the press of Julian’s finger pads against his skin. A silent storm roiled through Asra’s mind.

“You and I weren’t the best, so I understand if you want nothing to do with me,” babbled Julian, thinking Asra’s silence was discomfort towards him. The blush on his cheeks was burning with mortification, realizing Asra may have thought this was an attempt from Julian to wrangle the magician back into his arms, as well. “And that’s fine. I understand how much Xixa means to you – she means a lot to me, as well – and I’m fine with sharing that.”

Asra watched the grey-eyed man stumble over his words with a cool, purple gaze. It had been that blush, those timid averted gazes, that coaxed something from the magician before. A warm, fuzzy urge to play with him emerged from some dark, dusty corner. Julian never seemed the sort to be for polyamory. Asra had never thought to rouse the issue… But if he could have both Xixa and Julian?

The magician gently tugged Xixa’s eyes off him and quietly glided closer to the doctor. Julian bit his bottom lip, mind in a tumult as predictions raced through his synapses. What was the magician going to do? Slap him? Say this was a poor attempt to wrangle Asra back into a relationship he didn’t want? Curse him? _Again_? Julian’s imagination was abuzz with a thousand and one awful things.

“I need to check something,” Asra’s soft voice echoed around the oasis, licking at the doctor’s mind like a seductive touch. Julian’s fingers curled into his palms, remembering the last time Asra needed something. Not that Julian could complain about the knife play. It was what happened afterward that hurt.

The doctor threw Xixa a questioning look. The woman flashed him a comforting smile, with a shrug of her shoulder. The ball was in his court. He could deny Asra, if he wanted. He knew Xixa wouldn’t blame him. Julian looked back down at Asra, biting his bottom lip. The magician was a picture of serenity, though something headier seemed to lurk beneath those violet eyes.

“Whatever you need, Asra,” Julian whispered, a searing heat burning across his face. He swallowed, biting down the skittish nerves that clenched at his stomach.

The doctor was mentally prepared for anything. Absolutely anything. Getting slapped, kicked, stabbed, examined with some magic something-or-other, _anything_.

Well, anything except Asra’s sudden kiss. Julian’s eye widened, hands stuttering, unsure what he could touch. Faintly, Julian heard Xixa gasp. The magician eyes closed as he cupped Julian’s face in his hands, thumb stroking the man’s cheek. Asra’s teeth raked over Julian’s lower lip, eliciting a low moan from the doctor. Julian caved as heat flared in his abdomen. His arms wrapped around the magician’s lower back, his eye closing as he lost himself into the familiar touches. The scent of incense and fruit and foreign florals flooded Julian’s senses as Asra deepened the kiss.

Surprise tickled at Asra’s farther thoughts, realizing how enjoyable it was to kiss Julian, again. Especially with Xixa watching. A low simmer bubbled over into Asra’s limbs, coaxing a hand into Julian’s curls. Nails edged over the man’s scalp, until they traversed to the back of Julian’s head. The abrupt jerk at his hair brought Julian’s lips away from Asra’s. The doctor stared into those well-known purple eyes, his own gaze foggy with desire.

“I’ve got the information I want,” Asra purred, violet eyes dark with suggestive fondness. His hand drifted down Julian’s arm, stroking at the man’s hand, while his other hand tugged at Julian’s hair. “No blood needed, much to your dismay, Ilya.”

A shudder ran down Julian’s body, hearing his old name on Asra’s lips. How could one word sound so erotic on the magician’s lips? His mind swam in hormones and heat and confusion. What information was Asra looking for from a kiss? Did he find it?

Xixa’s own eyes widened as her hands raised to her mouth, hiding a big foolish grin on her lip. That hadn’t been completely unexpected to her, but watching it stirred pleasant warmth inside her. How long had all three of them suffered? If they could just come together – _haha,_ _come together_ – wouldn’t that be best after all the heartache?

The magician glanced up at her, purple eyes sparkling with amusement and a slight smile on his lips. Something wordless passed between them. A positive answer or, at least, a desire to try this arrangement.

“Asra, I think you broke our dear doctor,” Xixa teased, meandering toward the two.

The magician pushed away from Julian, casting an up-and-down gaze at the doctor. One arm remained looped around Julian’s neck as Asra pressed against his left side. “He’s not as durable as I remember, then.”

“Well, to be fair,” Xixa brushed her hand down Julian’s right arm, evoking a shiver and a sharp intake of breath. Oh, yeah, Julian was already inflamed. The witch caught the magician’s eye, both gazes sparking with heat and silent understanding. “We’ve both put him through the wringer.”

“I’m not complaining,” the doctor managed in a murmur, arms wrapping around both magic users’ hips. Something exciting and warm clawed through his veins and his thoughts. To think, just a few years ago, he thought he had no one, absolutely no one. Perhaps, from this moment forward, he had two people to enjoy his life with. How did he become such a lucky bastard?

Xixa laughed, leaning against the right side of his chest. She could see utter delight dancing in Julian’s eye.“We know you’re not, Julian.”

“Call him Ilya,” Asra crooned, fingertips lighting skirting the border of Julian’s shirt and flesh. The fire in Asra burned, slow and hot. It smoldered over his flesh, eager to see where this night would lead. A firmness was beginning to settle at his loins. His gaze flickered toward Xixa, a smirk curling at the corners of the magician’s lips, “He’ll melt if _you_ do it.”

“Is that true?” Xixa leaned up on tiptoe, her lips caressing Julian’s earlobe as she spoke. His flesh tingled, nerves on overload as the two overloaded his senses. The electricity in the air, lit across Xixa’s skin and sent her temperature into a rise. Tingles spread out from her lower tummy, tickling along her arms and legs and chest. Xixa’s voice dropped to a breathy whisper, heat shooting to his groin, “ _Ilya_?”

The erotic heat in him tripled, burning his bones. He groaned, biting his bottom lip to stifle the sound. His gaze flickered from Xixa to Asra, one grinning and the other smirking coyly. Already, his chest heaved against excited panting. He had to strain his vocal cords to moan out between grinning lips, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Xixa chuckled into Julian’s ear, the vibrations hitting him deep at his core. Wrapped in a cloud of hormones and carnal thoughts, he didn’t anticipate the witch sinking her teeth into his ear lobe. The doctor gasped and arched forward, allowing the woman easier access to his sensitive ear. She smirked around his lobe, giving it another bite, drawing a bead of blood.

The magician took advantage of the new position, littering Julian’s neck with bites. Heat ate away at Julian’s insides. He didn’t know how many more agonizing ministrations he could take. His pants were taut against his growing, aching, arousal. The doctor, caught up in sensual passion, almost missed Asra’s gentle teasing sigh against his neck, “You’re in trouble. As usual, Ilya.”


End file.
